


Look to Your Future; That's Where I'll Be

by HermioneGrander



Series: Dincobb Valentine's Bingo 2021 Event [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Anyways, Arranged Marriage, Boba and Fennec are married, Boba is Din's older brother because Din deserves Older Brother Boba Fett, Bodyguard AU, But it was convenient, Cobb keeps mentioning Din's gloves, Cobb's sister is disabled, Din is a top I have spoken, Grogu is in this just as much as he's in Chapter 9, I gave Cobb a little lesbian sister in this, I'm still not sure how I feel about their relationship tbh, Love them, M/M, Medieval AU, Not me that's for sure, Pining! Din, Royalty AU, They literally only get two paragraphs of sex tho, This is such a chaotic fic I'm so sorry, Touch-Starved Cobb Vanth, Touch-Starved Din Djarin, a movie I do love btw even though it's flawed, bc Cobb's sister loses her leg, bc I am gay and a slut, because all star wars is flawed, because i still cannot write smut without freezing up, because who needs more heteros, bingo tags ahead, but Cobb is a power bottom, cobb's dad has no development bc he's mean, cobb's mom is a sweetheart though, mild mentions of violence, probably has more plot points than the Rise of Skywalker, sorry - Freeform, that's to say he's hardly in it at all, the Tusken Raiders are accurately represented here, y'all know what that means, yup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-18 04:01:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29603538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HermioneGrander/pseuds/HermioneGrander
Summary: Mandalorian knight Din Djarin is hired as Prince Cobb's personal bodyguard. You can imagine the rich pining, angst, and chaos. It's all here baby.aka the medieval au my gay-ass needed.(They just fall in love idk what else to tell you.)
Relationships: Din Djarin/Cobb Vanth
Series: Dincobb Valentine's Bingo 2021 Event [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2177427
Comments: 6
Kudos: 41
Collections: DinCobb Valentine's Bingo 2021





	Look to Your Future; That's Where I'll Be

**Author's Note:**

> If you have questions whilst reading this, you're entirely valid bc I did too  
> I wrote this in days dear lord I've never hated something I wrote so much before in my life  
> if this is terrible im so sorry i literally hate it but im posting it anyways bc one (1) paragraph was good  
> also if you're here bc of my HFTSWR(Stay) fic then hi ily and I'm here to greatly disappoint you hahah I also never do chapters, that fic was special

  
  
  
  
  


When Din Djarin began his quest, he first rode into the small kingdom of Mos Pelgo expecting busy streets bustling with vendors and merchants and bards, a few local Raiders being hassled for their weapons, the only semblance of order reflected in the intricate stained glass windows of what he assumed would be a very large, and very expensive castle. 

Instead, the streets were almost bare, the only vendor out being the blacksmith working on a set of armour outdoors, a few children huddled around a frog, and a couple sitting atop barrels of alcohol, conversing quietly. The cobbled roads were worn off in parts, showing the dirt and weeds growing beneath. One of the houses looked as though it had been rebuilt seven times over in certain spots. The castle stood towards the end of the kingdom, rather than the middle, and it was only as big as the local Inn, which was in fact larger than most Inns Din had encountered. 

He tugged gently on Crest's reins, slowing her to a trot so he could observe without startling a civilian. The child napped peacefully in his satchel at Din's side. The only sound was that of his horse's hooves hitting the pavement and his sword clinking against his armour with every step. Din felt apprehension creep up under his cowl, and he moved his free hand to the hilt of his sword, resting it there as both a precaution and a warning. 

When he reached the Inn, he considered that as good as any place to begin his search. He tied Crest up outside on one of the posts, making sure the kid was still asleep, and entered. The door was already open, propped with a large stone that Din supposed was taken from the roads. He stepped down into the Inn and glanced around. It was completely empty, save for the bartender cleaning mugs at the front. Din gave him a once over; he was a Weequay, a species from the country of Sriluur, a journey that from Tatooine would take Din about three weeks on horseback, if he kept a steady pace. The bartender's dark, leathery skin reflected the constant barrage of sunlight his home country provided, and his long hair was done in various braids and locks that were common in his culture. Din briefly wondered how such a being could live in a kingdom like Mos Pelgo, which was known to hold its civilians in and keep others out. 

The bartender had glanced up at Din, and both a look of surprise and a hint of fear - perhaps too strong a word, perhaps  _ concern _ \- crossed his face. Din nodded once to show he meant no harm, and approached the bar. 

"Can I help you?" the Weequay asked, his voice gruff and low. 

"I'm looking for your Prince," Din replied, "I have come to act as his personal guard. Do you know how I might find company with him?" 

The bartender stared at him for a moment, and Din worried he hadn't heard him, but then the Weequay blinked and cleared his throat. 

"I know the Prince," the bartender said, almost excitedly. "He's usually out of the castle by now, wandering the village. He hates being in that place so long, says his folks are bad comp'ny."

Din frowned beneath his helmet. 

"What does he look like?" he asked, already dreading having to search the entire village for one Prince. 

The Weequay was looking at something just over Din's shoulder. He huffed a laugh. 

"Well, see for yourself," he said, gesturing behind Din. 

Din turned slowly, his hand reflexively finding his sword hilt once more. A man stood in the doorway, his hands on his hips and a soft, easy smile on his lips. He had lighter skin than Din, but it was worn from the arid heat of Tatooine. His hair was a golden blonde, bleached in parts by the Sun. He wore a tight fitting red shirt under a gray and green chest plate and brown pants that were wrinkled with use. His boots carried dirt from all over the kingdom, and he had a dagger strapped to his side. Had Din seen this Prince without context, he'd have mistook the royal for a hunter-gatherer, a peasant. Although, despite his rough appearance, he was quite attractive; and the way he held himself was that of a Prince, Din thought. 

The Prince had observed him just as much, if their mutual silence was any indication. He finally stepped down into the Inn and folded his arms across his chest. 

"What brings you here, stranger?" he asked, his smile still present. 

"I've been searching for you for many days," Din said, not exactly answering the Prince's question. 

"Well, now you found me," the Prince's smile grew and Din swallowed. 

He glanced back at the Weequay bartender. 

"Werlo, you introduce yourself yet?" he asked. 

Din turned to look at the Weequay as well, who shook his head. 

"Well then, I'll start. That there's my good friend Werlo. He's the bartender, and owner of this Inn, as you already know." 

Din turned back to the Prince, who now had a hand extended to Din. 

"And I'm Cobb Vanth. Prince and heir to the throne of Mos Pelgo."

Din stared at his hand dumbly. He'd met quite a few royals, but they have never presented themselves as approachable, never treated him as an equal they could shake hands with. It astounded him that this Prince -  _ Cobb Vanth  _ \- should do that now. The Prince chuckled, shaking Din from his head. 

"You waitin' for my permission?" he asked teasingly, "You can shake my hand." 

To emphasise this, the Prince waved his hand slightly. Din took his hand and shook it; the Prince had a firm grip, and though Din's hands were gloved he could feel the strength behind the Prince's all the same. 

"Din Djarin," he said, "Knight of the Mand'alor."

They let go and the Prince raised his eyebrows, his hands going back to his hips. 

"Knight of the Mand'alor, huh?" Din nodded, "So you're the one who's supposed to be my personal guard." 

The Prince stated this, so Din figured he knew and therefore required no clarification. 

The Prince frowned and then held out his arms, as a champion would after a battle won. 

"Do I look like someone who couldn't take care of himself?" he asked. 

Din stared, unsure of how to answer. 

"My opinion was not considered when I was asked to come," he finally replied, "But you do not look helpless." 

The Prince smiled brightly at Din, whose heart fluttered momentarily. 

"Great answer. Thank you kindly," he said. "Though I suppose, if we were to get caught in some trouble, you'd do a better job taking care of it than I would."

Din tilted his head inquisitively. 

"How so?" he asked. 

The Prince smirked, "Let's just say, if we fought each other right now, only one of us would be walkin' out of here. And it would not be me." 

Din frowned, "I would not fight you under any circumstance." 

The Prince laughed, his eyes shining. Din almost smiled back. Almost. 

"I appreciate that assurance," the Prince said, "But it's always good to get a personal guard who could kick your arse. Scares off potential threats."

They stood there after that, simply observing each other. The Prince's eyes went up and down Din's form, and he shifted his feet. Then the bartender - Werlo - cleared his throat. 

"Shouldn't you be gettin' him to the Palace, your highness?" he asked. 

Cobb snorted, "Thought I told you to call me Cobb," he said. "But you're right. I should." 

He looked at Din and motioned him forward. 

"Follow me, Din Djarin, Knight of the Mand'alor. I'll introduce you to the family." 

  
  
  


~

  
  
  


When Din rode through the Palace gates, he was immediately met by Palace guards and a few eager caretakers who rushed to help him with the child. Din wasn't sure how they knew he  _ had  _ a child; perhaps news of him travelled further than he'd thought. 

"Careful," he said, reluctantly handing his kid off to the eldest caretaker. "He gets into things he shouldn't. And he can do things, with his mind-" 

"Fret not, Mandalorian," she said, smiling kindly. "I helped raise  _ that _ one when I was younger," she nodded at the Prince. 

"Thank you," Din said, bowing his head. 

"You are most welcome. Now, head on through those doors. The Prince will lead the way."

The Royal family was small, but what they lacked in size they made up for in sound. As soon as the Palace doors opened to the throne room, there was boisterous talking and laughter echoing off the stone walls.

Din paused, quite unused to being so informally thrown before royals. Their chatter ceased when they saw the Prince, and the King smiled. 

"Cobb!" he said, holding out his arms, "You've returned just in time."

Then the King's eyes fell on Din, and he dropped his hands, his eyes widening. 

"But who is this?"

The Prince glanced at Din, who took that as his cue to step forward. 

"Your Majesty," he said, bowing with his hand in a fist at the center of his chest, as was custom in the kingdoms of Tatooine. "I am Din Djarin, Knight of the Mand'alor," he straightened, "I have come to act as the Prince's personal guard as he works to settle the tensions between Mos Pelgo and the Raiders."

"Ah!" the Queen exclaimed, stepping forward, "Yes very good. You've arrived just in time, Sir Djarin."

Din winced. The Mandalorians did not use titles as standard Knights did. They considered being a Knight of the Mand'alor title enough. He did not normally answer to "Sir", though he decided to make an exception for these particular royals, as they seemed quite unfamiliar with cultures they had no ties to. 

Or so Din believed. 

"Mandalorians don't use 'Sir'," the Prince said, moving to Din's side. 

Din looked at him and he grinned. 

"My apologies," the Queen said. 

Din bowed his head. 

"This the poor fella you've got covering your arse, Cobb?" a voice chirped from behind the King. 

Out stepped a young girl, who looked to be in her late adolescence. A silver circlet shaped of thorny vines sat stop her head, her blonde hair flowing out from under it and ending at her shoulders. She wore a worn cyan dress that was torn at the sleeves, showing the white slip beneath the stitching at her arms. She tilted her head up, smirking at her older brother. Din noted they had the same eyes, but her smirk felt more taunting, while the Prince's had been friendly. 

The Prince laughed. 

"That's right, he's gonna keep me out of trouble while I settle the tension at the border," the Prince replied, waving his eyebrows at Din. 

Din felt his face flush. 

“We were just finishing a draft for negotiations with the Lady and Lord of Mos Eisley,” the King explained, “Your timing is perfect.”

“The Lord and Lady of Mos Eisley?” Din asked before he could stop himself, apprehension creeping up his throat. 

The King stared at him.

“Yes,” he answered, “We have tried unsuccessfully for years to establish good relations with the people of Mos Eisley, and the new rulers have made it seemingly harder a task to complete.” He paused, assessing Din closely. “Why?” he asked, frowning. “Do you know them?”

Din hung his head, worrying he’d just made his situation a lot less amiable. 

“Yes,” he answered, “Lord Fett is my elder brother.”

When Din glanced back up, every eye had widened and fixed themselves to Din’s armour. He grew uncomfortable, and shifted in place.

"Well,” the Queen said after a while, “this is most wonderful!" she exclaimed. "Perhaps our attempts at an alliance could prove more fruitful than previously perceived?" 

She'd posed the question with a lilt of hope in her tone, and looked expectantly at Din, as if waiting for his response. 

Instead, the princess gave her own.

"With all due respect, mother," she started, her voice firm and steady, “Din Djarin is only our hired personal guard. You forget that for such a drastic alliance to be possible between two previously warring kingdoms, there would have to be some greater relation.” A pause. “Such as, say, a marriage.” 

The princess moved her taunting gaze back on Din. Her eyes were shining, and he just shook his head, unwilling to acknowledge the heat rising up his neck.

The Queen simply blinked at Fennec, looking a bit put off by the abrupt change of topic.

"We can discuss this later," the King decided. "For now, we must brief s- ah, Djarin, on what his role will be, and how he must fulfill it. Cobb, Alia, take the Mandalorian to the war room. Your mother and I will meet with you shortly." 

Cobb nodded once to the King and gestured for Din to follow him with the jut of his chin. Din glanced back at Boba once more, who winked. Din glared under his helmet and followed the Prince and Princess. 

"You know," the Princess - Alia - began, as they walked, "I was meant to rendezvous with Mirian at the courtyard right about now. I hope she isn't too worried about me." 

The Prince rolled his eyes dramatically. Din almost smiled.  _ Again.  _

"I'm sure she'll be just fine," he said, his tone one of utter annoyance. "You'll just make it up to her later, won't you," he added, a brow raised at her. 

The Princess gasped loudly, a hand grasping her sternum, "I know  _ not _ what you imply." 

This made the Prince chuckle. Din decided it was a nice sound; but this was not a necessary observation to have. Din felt incredibly out of place here, on his shift, listening to the Prince and Princess throw around innuendos like fresh bread from the furnace to the plate. 

Then the Princess curiously poked one of Din's vambraces. The Mandalorian was quite confused. 

"You have to save up much for this?" she asked, poking it once more. 

" _ Al… _ " the Prince warned. 

"It's alright," Din said; he'd had inquiries on his armour all his life. He could answer once more. "We earn our armour through deeds paid for. How long you wait to get your armour depends on how efficiently and frequently you finish tasks."

The Princess nodded, looking genuinely intrigued. 

"So how long did you wait for yours?" 

"Ten years." 

The Princess' eyes widened, "You managed to afford that armour in  _ ten years _ ? Most knights must wait twenty at  _ least. _ "

"Mandalorians are not most Knights," Din answered plainly. 

The Princess smiled and nodded once more, satisfied with Din's unsatisfactory explanation. Truthfully, he did not wish to reveal the types of jobs he'd taken up in order to get his true armour. 

Especially not any to do with the child. 

They reached the war room unceremoniously. In all of his travels through various kingdoms, Din hadn't seen one this small. He questioned the volume of their Knights, and whether he was asked to be here simply to add to the numbers. Whatever it may be, he was there now, and thus would give his life for the Prince.

  
  
  


~

  
  
  


The first few days of Din's stay were uneventful and, simply put, immensely boring. The King and Queen continued to carry meetings with Fett and Shand, but the Prince himself was not even allowed to be involved in such discussions, despite this whole ordeal being his own trial for the throne in the first place.

“You will be involved in these proceedings soon enough, son,” the King answered harshly, as he would to any questions the Prince posed. 

And so, the Prince had been confined to the walls of the castle so that he may take this matter more seriously, now that the Mandalorian had arrived. Din could see he was restless as well. 

Naturally, to ease the insufferable nothingness of the drawing days, the Prince came up with new and clever ways to entertain himself. Most times, it had to do with Din specifically, as part of his first test was that he could not leave the Prince's side, not even in the Palace. Sometimes, the Princess conspired with him.

Today's entertainment consisted of the Prince trying to find ways to escape Din's sight, while the Princess would help her brother distract the Mandalorian. So far, the farthest the Prince had made it was just down the hall. 

The Mandalorian always seemed to have an eye on him, even when his helmet was turned away. Cobb began to like it. 

Din had to admit, their games were amusing, but when it was his  _ duty  _ to watch over and protect the Prince from an invisible threat, they made it quite difficult. Din decided after a while that he'd had enough of their game, and when next the Prince attempted to escape, Din grabbed his bicep firmly. The Prince looked at him, surprised, but then a slow, sky smile overtook his face. 

"No more of this," Din said, "I have a duty and am currently being tested by the king as we speak." His tone was not course in any way; he wanted the Prince to enjoy himself while Din was there, and he felt a sense of guilt for having to spoil that fun. So when he said "Find some other game," his voice was soft, and empathetic.

The Prince nodded after a while, his smile turning more genuine. 

"You're right," he said, "And I think I do have one other idea." 

-

The Prince brought Din to the Palace library, a place Din wouldn't have otherwise considered visiting. The Princess had excused herself a little bit ago to once more meet up with her lover; though she'd not been permitted to leave without more of the Prince's teasing. 

"Shouldn't she stay here?" Din asked as she left, "Or bring a guard with her? If I am to protect you, who would protect her?" 

The Prince gave Din one of his breath-taking grins and grasped his elbow loosely as they walked towards the library, as if to guide him. 

"That's kind of you to think," the Prince answered, "But she'll be alright. She meets Mirian just outside the gates, in Clafri's garden. She's the gardener around here, the best, and her corn fields get high enough for privacy."

Din felt he shouldn't have been told that. 

"Besides," the Prince added, "Everyone around here loves her; Al's a charmer. Anyone would look out for her."

Din nodded, still not entirely convinced. 

They arrived at the library, and Din was instantly blown away by the size of it. It was, perhaps, the largest part of the castle second to the throne room alone. Din told the Prince as much, who smiled in response, amused. 

"Certainly is a very large place. Our collection of books and scrolls, ancient texts and what have you, are some of the Vanths’ most prized possessions. Kinda funny," the Prince rubbed at the stubble on his chin in thought, "Considering Alia and I are the only ones who actively read any of this. Father just sticks to the texts on war."

Then the Prince leaned towards Din in a conspirative manner, an eyebrow raised suggestively. 

"If you think  _ this  _ place is big, you should see my Chambers." 

Din immediately blushed; not even he was able to ignore the heat rushing to his face. The Prince had become quite the flirt since Din had arrived, though he couldn't be sure whether or not the Prince was this way with everyone. He didn't exactly know who or how to ask either. Or why he thought it necessary to know at all.

The Prince showed Din the different sections of the library and the vast variety of books and other texts it contained. They arrived at a section the Prince labelled "Foreign affairs", though the collection was smaller than the others had been.

"You noticed the emptiness as well?" the Prince asked. When Din nodded, he said "Well, I could blame it on Mos Pelgo's distance from any other civilisation in Tatooine, though I've become more sure that it's simply the King's unwillingness to tolerate other cultures and such."

Din noticed the Prince did not refer to the king as his father. He saw irritation taking over the Prince's face. 

"I however, have always made sure to know as much about as many kinds of people I could manage to learn about."

The Prince moved to pluck a thin book from the shelf. 

"This one's on Mandalorians," he said, handing it to Din. "I know, I was surprised too. But the stories always brought me enjoyment."

Din opened the book carefully, making sure not to tear a page with his gloved hands. He scanned a few pages, a smile the Prince could not see slowly overtaking his face. 

"I hope it's accurate," the Prince noted almost anxiously, "You can never be sure out here unless you know someone personally." 

Din glanced up at the Prince in awe. 

"Seems well-informed to me," he answered. 

The Prince smiled brightly, his earlier irritation forgotten. Din  _ did  _ smile back this time. The Prince still could not see it. 

They continued to stare at each other, both becoming increasingly aware of how long it had been yet more and more unsure of how to move on. Finally, the Prince cleared his throat. 

"If you'd like to look through it with me, check over its validity, I'd appreciate the company."

Din huffed a laugh, "I'm always in your company," he noted. 

The Prince tilted his head, his smile taking on a more curious expression. 

"You smiling under there?" he asked, his voice suddenly quiet. 

Din met his eyes again, and nodded, slowly. The Prince laughed softly. 

"That's good," he said, "It's nice to know you feel things beneath all that armour." 

Din's traitorous brain supplied a very specific example of what exactly he felt beneath the armour, and he frowned at himself. He didn't know how to respond to the Prince, so he glanced down at the book again. 

"Oh, right this way," the Prince said, gesturing for Din to follow him. 

They say at a round table, the Prince electing to sit right next to Din despite the several other chairs present. Din reasoned it easier to read the book over Din's shoulder than from across the table. 

They reviewed the book quietly, Din pointing out things that were true, things that had been dramatised, and even a few things he'd never heard himself. The Prince hung on to Din's every word, nodding to show his understanding or asking further questions for clarification. The Prince was very willing to learn and change his perspectives. 

"Are you allowed to take the helmet off?" the Prince asked. 

"I am," Din answered, "Though I usually have no reason to."

They had read together for a total of three hours when the Prince asked an arbitrary question. 

"You know anything about the Tusken Raiders around here?" he inquired, his eyebrows furrowed. 

Din nodded, "I've known these people a while, I know ways to communicate with them."

The Prince turned to him, surprised. 

"They'll speak with you? They don't attack?"

Din shook his head, "There are ways to interact with them peacefully. They are brutal, but so are the dune sands they inhabit. They've survived here for hundreds of years, long before it was settled, and settlers had tried to wipe them out. You can imagine what that kind of life can do to a people."

The Prince nodded thoughtfully. Din observed his features, noting the ways his eyebrows tightened and his eyes scanned invisible objects when he was in deep thought. His lips were loose, almost open. After a bit of consideration, he looked at Din, the corners of his lips quirked up. 

"I'm glad you're here, Din," he said softly. 

Din's stomach spun, the force of it hitting his chest. He inhaled deeply, taking in the Prince's face, his almost-smile. 

"I'm glad to be here." 

  
  
  


~

  
  
  


They spent time in the library almost daily after that, finishing their exploration on the Mandalorian text and moving onto others. Din enjoyed the Prince’s company more and more as the days passed. Outside of reading through the texts, they talked about their lives. Din usually listened as the Prince spoke, telling him of how the Tuskens had long plagued the borders of Mos Pelgo, even killing a handful of civilians. The Prince admitted that he had a friend in the village, their own blacksmith named Jo, construct him pieces of armour to use in defense of his kingdom against the Tuskens. 

The Tuskens had briefly become less of a problem when a cultist clan began attacking all around the kingdom of Mos Pelgo, targeting Tuskens and Mos Pelgo’s people specifically. The Prince and the Tuskens had fought side by side for a few weeks, working together to eradicate the cult. As soon as they were scared off, however, the Tuskens returned to their previous hostility, and - to the Prince’s disappointment, as did his people. 

The Prince’s view of them became more open-minded and accepting the more questions he asked of Din, and the more they read up on the treatment of Tusken Raiders in the past. Din felt pride towards him. Among other things.

He slowly began to recognise signs of attraction pretty early on. He’d curse himself at each thought; he shouldn’t be feeling anything for this untouchable Prince, let alone fantasising about doing things to him in various closets or the secluded back of the much-too-large library. 

The more they discussed the texts, however, the easier it was for Din to distract himself. So he’d gladly listen to the Prince read him things and then converse about them, Din would gladly listen to him talk about his family and his life. Din mentioned his son once, and the Prince had seemed very interested in the topic, though he did not pry. Din appreciated it, though he knew that telling him about his son would also serve an effective distraction. Instead, he would ask the Prince questions, and nod when he answered.

  
  
  


~

  
  
  


After almost two weeks of doing absolutely nothing in the castle, two weeks since the Mandalorian had arrived, the Prince was given his first task. He had informed the King and Queen of the Knight's ability to communicate with the Tuskens, and suggested a more diplomatic approach this time. 

And so, he and Din were to head to the borders to attempt a peaceful conversation with the Tusken Raiders. 

Din decided to bring the child with him, hoping he would show the Tuskens they meant peace. They came alone, Din armed as always, his armour done up. The Prince had only his chest piece and dagger. So despite knowing the Tuskens to be capable of peaceful discussion, he still kept the Prince safely behind him. 

He introduced himself, signing and speaking their language. They were immediately pacified from their defensive stance, so surprised that a foreigner could understand them. They allowed the Prince and Din to come sit and speak with them.

Din tried not to laugh as the Prince looked between him and the tuskens he conversed with in utter confusion. Din asked him for clarification on certain matters, but besides that he sat quietly, observing. 

There was a brief argument when the topic of attacks on the borders arose. Evidently, this tribe was not the only Tusken tribe involved, and they were the most peaceful. Din could only imagine how difficult the others would be to appease. These Tuskens didn't take kindly to accusations of attacks they hadn't participated in, and Din had to explain to Cobb that separate tribes did not collaborate, and they certainly wouldn't waste time and lives on war-like actions. They were skilled and orderly, but their tribes stuck together. Din related to them in this way. 

Din was warned that a certain tribe was under the control of a new cult clan, one that was more oppressive than before. They were slowly taking over all the Tusken tribes, imprisoning raiders who could fight and killing the ones that couldn't. The children were used to transport supplies and scout out the kingdom's borders. The Tusken Din spoke to said they were planning something big, but the Raiders with which he currently sat had no way to find out what unless they gave themselves to the cult. 

Din relayed this to the Prince, whose face flashed anger once more. 

"I won't let them do that. My family escaped enslavement and made our way here for a better life. I won't stand for anyone else being treated the way we were." He looked to the Tuskens, though he knew they couldn't understand him. "We will help your tribe, and we will free your people. Those who attack us will be dealt with, but not killed." 

Din translated for the Tuskens, a hidden smile of awe plastered to his face at the Prince's response. Din knew him to be kind and reasonable, but to turn around his opinion after learning something new so quickly was a quality Din had rarely encountered. It was refreshing and completely breathtaking. 

After their discussions, they were invited for a meal before they returned to the Kingdom. Cobb accepted gratefully. Din brought the child out of his satchel attached to Crest and set him in between his legs as he ate. The hound dogs the Tuskens hunted with sniffed at the child, but kept their distance. 

After the meal, the Prince had Din thank them, and promise the same invitation of a shared meal would be extended to them once the Prince became King. 

  
  
  


~

  
  
  


Din awoke and left his barracks before either of the Suns had risen. In these few hours in the early morning or later at night, when no one roamed the halls, Din spent time with the child. He was permitted to visit him throughout the day, but he could never stay. One of the caretakers, a young boy by the name of Luke Skywalker, seemed to recognise more than anyone else there just how much the child meant to Din. He'd meet the Mandalorian at the entrance to the nursery every morning, and every other night. Din would nod his thanks and the boy would smile; a soft, innocent turn of the lips suggestive of someone who'd seen all the world had to offer, and a deep understanding of all things in it hidden beneath his childish eyes. The few times he spoke he was quiet, and assured. 

The boy confused Din; he couldn't have been any less than ten years Din's junior, and yet he walked as if his soul had swept the land beneath it for centuries. Perhaps it was for this reason he was excellent with children, and he had been charged with watching over them for most of the Kingdom's inhabitants. 

Skywalker had the child ready for Din when he arrived, and Din took him carefully, as the child still slept. 

“Has he spoken yet?” Skywalker whispered.

Din shook his head.

“I’m not sure why,” he replied quietly. “I found him only a year ago, he hasn’t spoken in all the time I’ve known him.” Din glanced down at the child, his curly dark hair pressed to his forehead, snoring soundly. “Is- Is that normal?” Din faltered.

Skywalker tilted his head, glancing down at the child, “I’m not sure. I’ve been here all my life and I have never known a child to go so long without speaking. But-” he began, noticing the nervous shift in Din’s demeanor, “This child is not from around here. Nor are you. There’s no reason to believe anything is wrong with him.”

“Oh, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with  _ him _ . I just,” Din sighed, “Sometimes I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Skywalker smiled softly, “I think you do. You just don’t give yourself credit where it’s due.” He patted the child’s hair lightly, “This child needed a father; he needed  _ you. _ ”

Din nodded appreciatively towards the boy. He left the nursery, the child secure in his arms, and headed for the courtyard where he’d sit and wait for his son to open his eyes for the first time that day. 

  
  
  


~

  
  
  


“You have to sleep in here?” The Prince asked that same morning, when Din returned to the Palace. 

They stood in his barracks, and the Prince was observing them closely. He was only there because he had followed Din upon noticing the Mandalorian returning from outside. Din just needed to grab the bulkier parts of his armour he’d left behind for his time with the child, he hadn’t planned on the Prince surveilling his space. Not that he particularly minded; he’d never known much privacy, outside the helmet.

“It’s fine,” Din said, “I sleep fine.”

The Prince tilted his head and quirked his lips in that all-too-familiar expression of amused confusion that Din was not appreciating at the moment.

“Forgive me pal, but I don’t see how that’s possible.”

Din stilled at the new nickname,  _ pal _ . He wasn’t sure how he felt about it, but whatever the feeling was, it was confined to his abdomen. For the time being.

“You can tell me if you don’t like it here,” The Prince added, “I won’t chop your head off for not enjoying a stone floor for a bed and a rock for a pillow.”

Din chuckled quietly. The Prince was being dramatic; it was an older cot, most likely used frequently in early days of war. The pillow was sturdy from age, but usable. He stood up, his armour fully in place, and glanced back at the Prince, a hip leaning out and his head tilted to mimic the Prince’s.

“I said it’s fine,” he sighed, “Besides, I haven’t slept on a real bed in years. It’s been nothing but cots, mats, or the forest floor for a while.”

The Prince frowned.

“Well, that won’t do,” he said, glancing around. “What if you-”

“Your highness,” a curt voice interrupted from behind the Prince.

He and Din turned toward the source; a page stood awkwardly in the doorway.

“Yes?” the Prince asked, his brows knitting together.

“The King wishes to speak with The Prince and his Guard,” the page replied.

Din and the Prince glanced at each other, both equally confused. After all this time of waiting to be included in this trial,  _ now _ the King wanted their input? Din nodded to the Prince, a silent  _ Ready when you are _ . 

As they left his barracks together, Din’s heart involuntarily picked up his pace. He’d never had a job that required him to lay low and do practically nothing for so long; he was itching for action.

-

When Cobb first heard his parents go over the plan they’d contrived, he was sure they meant it as a jest. But he knew they would never have involved a foreigner, one they  _ hired _ , in their pranks. So this had to be either very, very real, or Cobb was very, very asleep.

“You… Want us to  _ court _ each other?" Cobb asked incredulously. 

He glanced at Din in disbelief. The Mandalorian had gone uncharacteristically still. Cobb had trouble discerning if he was still breathing. 

"Yes," the King replied irritably. "Our relations with the Lady and Lord of Mos Eisley is critical to Mos Pelgo's survival in the coming years. Our trade route is constantly clogged with ruffians and Raiders, and our imports are dwindling to none. We're losing more than we gain, and the only way to remedy this would be to ally ourselves with another kingdom. Currently, given the Mos Espa falls to scum and villainy more every day, Eisley is our best bet."

"I thought the whole  _ point  _ of my trial was to see if I could handle these situations," Cobb reminded the King, the heat of a simmering anger rising to his face. "I was meant to settle the tensions along the border, and that  _ includes  _ the Raiders and 'ruffians'." 

"Your father and I have decided this to be the best long-term solution," the Queen said, sensing her husband's rising anger as well. "Even if you deal with the Tuskens and bandits successfully, there's still the deficit of trade that comes from our own lack of resources. We need Mos Eisley."

Cobb rolled his eyes, his hands clenched tightly at his sides. 

"And have you possibly considered  _ asking Din  _ to speak with his brother? Or asking him anything at all?" Cobb spat. 

The King stepped closer, silencing his son with his intense glare. He turned to Din, his face softening but no less infuriated. 

"Tell me, Knight of the Mand'alor, if you were to request your brother ally his kingdom with ours, for any reason, would he accept?" 

Cobb watched Din closely, ready to step in to his defense should he fail to find an answer. Din glanced up at him briefly, and he nodded once in what he hoped would be seen as encouragement. 

"No," Din answered quietly. "He's too traditional; his family and his people matter most, and there's nothing he could gain from Mos Pelgo otherwise." 

Cobb's heart sank. Din didn't ask for any of this. 

"This isn't fair to him in the slightest," Cobb snapped, whirling on his father. "He was brought here  _ by us  _ for the purpose of  _ protecting me.  _ He didn't  _ ask  _ to be used as some pawn in your negotiations. If you'd never known his relation to Lord Fett, this situation would never have even crossed your minds and you know it."

"Cobb," Din called quietly, but to Cobb's ears he could've shouted. It was the first time the Mandalorian had ever said his name, despite Cobb's insistence otherwise. "It's alright," he said, for Cobb only. "It's just a job. It's what I do."

Cobb took a step back, feeling as if he'd just been hit in the stomach. _It's just a job._ That's what Din thought of marriage? Of this arrangement? Of Cobb? 

"Exactly," the Queen replied, "Once all of this is over we can mull over ways to separate you two. It's not permanent." 

"Not perm-  _ what  _ has gotten  _ into you two? _ " Cobb refused to raise his voice, refused to be like his father, but even felt how his voice cut through the room. "You two who have been trying to marry me off since I was sixteen, trying to find your son someone to rule by his side, suddenly  _ this  _ meets your needs?" 

"Stand down, Cobb!" the King shouted back. 

Cobb noticed Din flinch at his side, which only deepened his rage. 

"The continuation of the Vanth bloodline is  _ vital  _ to us, to this family. Your sister has already made her decision to disappoint such a wish. This alliance will be  _ your _ responsibility, as  _ well  _ as providing an heir to the throne. You  _ will  _ have a Queen,  _ and  _ a family, force HELP me!"

Cobb was seething. He could handle this, he'd handled his father his whole life. Mos Pelgo was just as important to Cobb as it was to his parents. He'd do whatever it took to keep his people safe. 

But Din didn't deserve this. It wasn't his responsibility. 

Frozen in anger, Cobb could do nothing but glare at his father. The King knew he'd won. Out of the corner of his eye, he could just make out his mother's familiar nervous demeanor, her shaking hands reaching out to placate the king, her lips pressed tightly together. 

Suddenly Din was at his side, the back of a gloved hand pressing lightly into Cobb's. He broke eye contact with his father and glanced at his friend. They communicated silently for a moment, Din's expression set and determined, Cobb's apologetic and confused and angry. He made up his mind. 

Glancing back at the King, Cobb spat "We're not done with this," and grabbed Din's hand, pulling them both out of the conference hall swift as tears. 

  
  
  


~

  
  
  


"Your highness," Din started, "I told you-" 

"You called me Cobb," the Prince interrupted, "In that room. That's what I told you to call me, and I don't want to hear this 'your highness' nonsense again."

Then the Prince's-  _ Cobb's  _ face fell, his guilt quick and evident. 

"I'm sorry, I-" Cobb exhaled shakily, "I don't know. This has never happened before." 

Din approached him slowly, reaching a hand out, meaning to grab Cobb's arm. But when he saw Din's hand outstretched, Cobb took it in his own hands again, deflating at the touch. Din led them down the hall towards Cobb's chambers. He still had yet to see them, had been too afraid to even suggest it, but Cobb needed to calm down. Cobb followed without resistance, and they reached his chamber door, Din hesitating. 

Cobb glanced up at him and managed a weak smile. Reaching over Din with his free hand, Cobb turned the handle and opened the door. It was his turn to lead as they entered his room, the door swinging shut lightly behind them. Din sat Cobb down on his bed and took a step back, surveilling the room for anything that could help. 

Before he could move any more, he felt something slump against his right hip, resting just above his thigh guard. Din glanced down to see Cobb leaning against him, his eyes cast to the ground. Din chuckled, surprising himself, and nudged Cobb's head so he could kneel next to the Prince. Cobb sat back and Din crouched in front of him. 

"I'm sorry," Cobb whispered, "For all of this. This isn't-" he waved a hand, sighing. "This isn't what you were meant to do."

Din watched Cobb's face for a bit, observing the muscles behind each twitch of his brow, the alternating fiery fury and dismal resignation in his eyes. The set of his pink lips, the sharp bristles of his beard. It had grown since Din had arrived, covering Cobb's chin, jaw, and upper lip. It looked nice.  _ Cobb  _ looked nice. Din made up his mind. 

Reaching up slowly, he found the lip of his helmet, unclasped it, and lifted it over his head. Cobb's gaze found his and the Prince's eyes widened considerably. Din shifted nervously but held Cobb's gaze, becoming the only steady thing Cobb had left. Cobb's hand found Din's jaw, his fingers trailing lightly up his cheek. Din offered a small smile, and Cobb grinned back, the light returning to his eyes. 

"So this is what you look like under there," he said, his eyes wandering over the rest of Din's face. 

His thumb grazed over Din's own facial hair, leaving his jaw and finding his upper lip. Din held his breath. 

The Prince, suddenly realising what he was doing, pulled his hand away. 

"I gotta admit," Cobb said, "I'm surprised."

"Not what you expected?" Din asked. 

Cobb smiled at him. "Better," he replied. 

Then his face fell again, and he glanced down at his hands clasped in his lap. 

"I appreciate the distraction," he started, his voice returning to its "Prince like" tone, as Cobb would call it. "But I still can't excuse what they did. Without even  _ asking  _ you. It's unfair."

Din took a deep breath, furrowing his brow in contemplation. 

"It wasn't an ideal way to handle the situation," he said finally. 

Cobb scoffed. 

"But it's what's to happen," Din continued, "And I'm fine with it." 

Cobb glanced at him suddenly, and Din thought he saw a flicker of hurt in those hazel eyes. 

"Right," Cobb nodded. "Is marriage not very… Important to Mandalorians?"

"It is," Din answered, "Mandalorians are built on familial ties, our coverts held together by our relationships. Clans are similar to your royal families, but everyone has one, whether they're born into it, adopted as a foundling as my son was, or married in." 

Cobb stared at him, confusion and mild despair painting his features. 

"Then how could you be fine with this?" he asked breathlessly. 

"I used to be no good," Din said, deciding to start off early in the story. "Before the kid. I trained to be a Knight of the Mand'alor, and I was a skilled warrior. But I did things I regret, I took jobs I shouldn't have, just to get paid. My existence was solely for the next job, the next bounty, the next meal. It… Was awful. I still didn't have a clan of my own, my brother refused to become a Knight. He always said he had a bigger purpose. I hated every day I woke up. Only thing that kept me going was spite."

Cobb was looking at him with the softest expression he's ever seen. Din felt he could melt to the floor from it. 

He cleared his throat. 

"Then I got a job from an ex-Loyalist," he smirked at Cobb's look of disgust, "Yeah, like I said, things I regret. But I don't regret where the job led me. Because it led me to the child." 

Cobb's eyes widened. Din enjoyed watching his expressions change freely. He wondered if his own did the same. 

"I didn't realise how special he was, at the time. I even handed him over to the enemy." Din sighed heavily. "I got him back. But it cost me most of my covert." 

Cobb's hand found Din's shoulder. Din grabbed it with his other hand. 

"I've watched over and protected the child since. My covert's armourer named him part of my clan. I finally had my own." Din pointed to his right pauldron, "This is our signet: the mudhorn, a beast we slew together."

"That kid's already killed a monster?" Cobb asked, amused. 

"Yeah," Din chuckled in fond memory, "He has. So we are a clan of two; Clan Mudhorn, House of Djarin."

Cobb was smiling at him again. Din raised an eyebrow, knowing a question was coming. 

"Why are you telling me all of this?" Cobb asked. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I love knowing more about you and your kid. But this is the most I've ever heard you say at once."

Din rolled his eyes. 

"Because I'm trying to make a point."

Cobb nodded, waiting for him to go on. 

"My  _ point _ is that since taking the child into my care, I've become a father, and a reformed Knight. I don't take the highest paying jobs for the money. I do what I need to do, and I protect the child.

I've become who I want to be. Now that I have the child, we live for each other. I have a purpose that I never would have had before, and never even considered pursuing."

Cobb was watching him closely, enchanted by his tale. 

"Finding the child was something I was meant to do. I don't know much about the Force, but the child can use it. And I think it brought us together." 

Cobb's face softened. The Prince himself received Din's story as a child might before bedtime. 

"Maybe that's why I am here. The only brother of the current Lord of Mos Eisley, no ties to anyone besides the child, and familiar with the Tuskens and their ways." Din met Cobb's eyes. "Your mother was right. It seems I'm the best solution. I was meant to do this." The corner of Din's mouth twitched, not quite a smile. "The Force brought me to you."

There was a silence so tangible it could be held, and they did; they held tight by naught but an intense gaze between them, pulling each other’s blood through their veins and air through their lungs. It was unlike anything Din had ever experienced in his life; a rush, as if he’d stood up too quickly, but it all led to Cobb. He felt drawn to the Prince in a way he never had before. Something stirred deep inside of Din, dredging up from the parts of himself he’d forgotten. That confession, that surrendering to where their paths had brought them, seemed to have rewarded him with a deep sensation he couldn’t explain.

Din hadn’t realised how close he and Cobb had gotten until the door to his chambers flew open and Din jolted back.

Princess Alia stood in the doorway, her expression shifting from surprise to confusion to what seemed to be a realisation, and she smirked.

“Did I interrupt something?” She asked, an eyebrow drawing farther up her forehead.

“No,” Cobb glared at her, “And how many times have you been told to  _ knock? _ ”

She smiled mischievously. 

“Anyways,” she said, “You two have been summoned for dinner. Father seems in a bad mood, so maybe come around sooner rather than later.”

The Princess turned to leave and then stopped herself, grabbing the door frame.

“Oh, and one more thing.”

She faced both of them, a soft, genuine smile on her face.

“Congratulations. I hope this situation you’ve both been forced into proves to be  _ more fruitful than previously perceived, _ ” she commented, mimicking her mother’s voice. Then she turned her gaze to Din, sizing him up. “And nice face.”

The Princess skipped out of the doorway at that, and Cobb smiled, shaking his head fondly. Din decided he liked her. He took a few more breaths to glance over Cobb’s face before grabbing his helmet and slipping it back on. He stood at Cobb’s side again, who faced him now. Din held out his arm in a courteous manner.

“Your highness?” he asked in jest.

Cobb chuckled, looping his arm through Din’s.

“I suppose I’ll have to start calling  _ you  _ that as well.”

As a blush took over Din’s face once more, he was again grateful for the helmet.

  
  
  


~

  
  
  


Two days after the King and Queen had given Din his new role, there was another attack at the border. This one was sudden and unorganised.

They didn’t hear about the attacks, however, until the unconscious form of Princess Alia came into view. Din watched the blood leave Cobb’s face as he raced to his sister, helping the other villagers carry her to the palace. She was put in the nursing ward, receiving constant attention and care. 

The Princess had lost her leg from the knee down in the attack. She was having a replacement forged by Jo, but it would take a while to get situated and the Princess would be weak for a long time.

For the entirety of the first day, Cobb sat at his sister’s side. He’d heard his parents yelling over her, arguing about the situation with the Tuskens, and he was unwilling to leave Alia alone. Din stood in the corner of the room, feeling as though he was intruding on something he shouldn't. But then, as the sun slipped past the horizon and night began, Cobb held his hand out to Din, who took it. Cobb pulled him close, wrapping an arm around Din’s waist when he sat beside the Prince. Din wrapped his arms around Cobb’s shoulders, pulling him closer. He didn't know what to say; even the child had never come so close to death before. So he just pulled Cobb in closer, even briefly removing his helmet, just to rest his chin against Cobb’s head.

When he and Cobb left late that night to get some sleep, the Prince shuffled slowly behind Din who led him to his Chambers. Din stopped them just a few feet from Cobb's door. He turned to the Prince and grabbed both his arms gently. 

"What is it?" he asked. 

Cobb looked for his eyes beneath the helmet. 

"I thought I'd finally come to understand these people," Cobb explained, "The Tuskens, I mean. I've learned so much about them, thanks to you, and I know they've seen it all." He took a shaky breath. "But if they're responsible for this… ThIs attack. I don't think I could ever forgive them." 

Din nodded, encouraging him further. 

"If it were any other attack, with no casualties, it'd be an annoyance, but I'd get it. But  _ Alia?  _ She'd never hurt a damn  _ womp rat _ let alone any Tuskens. And she knows better than to provoke them. I just don't-" Cobb huffed his aggravation, "I don't get it. I don't get it." 

His face broke then, and it seemed tears might follow any second. Din pulled him close, wrapping his arms securely around the Prince's shoulders once more. Cobb's arms ran around Din's waist, pulling him tighter. He did his best to hold Cobb to him with all of his armour, but it was a lost battle, and Cobb opted to lean his head down and rest his forehead against Din's sternum. One of Din's hands found the back of Cobb's neck and held it there, his thumb grazing over Cobb's hair at the base of his skull. 

They stayed this way a while, Din listening to Cobb's breathing as he shook. Then the Prince pulled away a bit, scanning Din's helmet. 

"Stay," he whispered, "Stay with me tonight. Please. It'd be better than sleeping in those barracks." 

His voice was so pitiful it broke Din's heart. He sighed, his gloved hand moving from the back of Cobb's neck to cup his jaw. 

"Are you sure it's okay?" he asked hesitantly. 

Cobb nodded, "Of course. We're to be wed sooner or later anyways, and after today I have a feeling my parents will want it to be  _ sooner. _ " 

Din smiled softly, though he knew Cobb wouldn't see it. But the Prince must've known, somehow, because he smiled at Din as well. 

"Okay," Din said finally. "I'll stay."

-

Din awoke sometime in the middle of the night, disorientated and tangled in something. No, some _ one _ . Memories of the night before came rushing back and Din glanced at the sleeping form of the Prince, who was currently wrapped up in Din's arms, his legs entwined with Cobb's. He smiled to himself, pulling Cobb closer to him. The Prince shuffled, mumbling a bit in his sleep, and settled his head against Din's chest. Din leaned his head in, resting his cheek against Cobb's hair. 

He was in love with the Prince, and he knew it. He also knew this arranged marriage would kill him. 

  
  
  


~

  
  
  


The King and Queen wanted to meet once more with them in the early morning. A messenger was sent to retrieve them, a messenger who found them tangled around each other in the Prince's bed. He awoke them gently, smirking at them as they rose, before leaving to inform the king they were on their way. Din put his armour and helmet back on, and Cobb dressed smartly, sans a crown. 

Din had asked him once why he never wore a crown. 

_ "Can't stand 'em," _ Cobb had answered,  _ "They're heavy, they fall off easy, and in the eyes of the people a crown immediately separates you as someone 'important'. I don't want anyone feeling like they can't talk to me. Besides, I'll  _ have _ to wear one every day as King. I'd rather enjoy my time without it."  _

When they were ready, Din led them from the room, holding Cobb's hand tightly this time. 

-

As it should happen, Cobb's prediction was correct. As soon as he and Din entered the conference hall, the Queen had them sit across from her and the King, who began explaining how they were to move about this arranged marriage. 

The King spoke of it like another battle strategy, or perhaps even as simply as a list of tasks to be done that day. Cobb supposed it was such to them. He seemed the only one in this room that felt so affected by this. Din had told him marriage was important to Mandalorians, but now he seemed calmer than Cobb had ever seen him. It bothered him, though he couldn't pinpoint why.

"I hope to complete negotiations by the end of the week. The marriage shall occur sometime before then of course," the King said. 

So focused on Din, Cobb hadn't heard a thing before that. 

"What?" he asked, sitting up straighter, "This  _ week?  _ Don't standard courting rituals require at least six months to be considered genuine?" 

The King swivelled his patronising gaze to his son. 

"You are correct, though nothing about this situation is 'standard', and your marriage will not be 'genuine'. As I said, and I hope you have not forgotten," the King spat, "Once the sand settles and this is all over, this Knight of Mandalore will return home," he gestured to Din, "And you will find yourself a Queen."

Cobb sat back in his chair, fuming once more. He'd never been opposed to the idea of marrying Din in the first place, however strange it may have felt discussing such things after knowing the Mandalorian for a mere two weeks. Now it had been almost a month, and the thought of having a civil conversation with his father, or willingly sitting through one of his many tirades such as this one, was more appealing than having to watch Din leave.

"The sooner we can get this alliance under the rug, the sooner we can have peace," the Queen reasoned. 

Cobb smiled wryly.  _ Peace.  _

"Unless you'd prefer an open war with the Tuskens," the King said, "I know you claim to be friendly with them, Knight Djarin, and that they have the means to be  _ peaceful  _ people, but if they could do this to my daughter, I'd have no problem sending our troops down there in reply."

Din and Cobb looked to each other. Cobb couldn't see Din's face, couldn't find his eyes, but he could picture Din's expression all the same. They were in agreement. 

"War won't be necessary," Cobb said slowly, turning back to the King. "We'll wed before the end of this week." 

  
  
  


~

  
  
  


Standard wedding procedure for Royal families included lots of decorations, food, and people. But as the King had said, this wasn't going to be standard. 

Cobb was still meant to give Din the "Ceremonial Staff of Matrimony" as usual, but there would be no ceremony, no rings, and no vows. The Staff alone was the officiation, a symbol that otherwise collected dust in its rack above the thrones. 

This was to be a quick, easy process taking only a few minutes, and then they'd begin negotiating with the Lady and Lord of Mos Eisley. If negotiations went well, and an alliance was formed, Din could leave. Plan was, he'd tell his brother he got bored of Palace life and decided to go back to his mercenary work; but, he'd have to be sure to talk up Mos Pelgo to Lady Shand and Lord Fett lest they lose interest again. The whole plan stunk of Bantha shit and Cobb didn't like any of it. 

If he was going to marry Din, he wanted it to be real. All of it. 

The only good news to come of any of this was that Alia was well. Her new steel prosthetic leg was difficult for everyone to get used to, but she was hopeful about it. 

_ "Now I can kick  _ anyone's  _ ass!"  _ she'd said to Cobb the first day of wearing it.

She’d also revealed it wasn’t, in fact, the Tuskens who arranged this attack. Alia described figures dressed in red. Her leg had been caught by a mine they planted.

_ “It’s Red Key,”  _ Cobb had told Din.  _ “They’re back. I should’ve known.” _

Din stood behind him now, watching Jo, Mos Pelgo’s blacksmith, fiddle with the staff. The King and Queen watched over her, discussing something in whispers between themselves. 

Then it was Din and Cobb’s time to stand in front of the King as he’d hand Cobb the staff. Cobb would hand it off to Din who, as his last acting decision, could accept the staff or hand it back.

Cobb hated the way his hands shook as he extended the Staff to Din, trying his best to watch his friend’s eyes. Din had willingly taken his helmet off for the “ceremony”, much to Cobb’s surprise, but ultimate delight. His gaze was piercing now, deep brown pulling Cobb in and whispering promises he only wished he could hear aloud, spoken softly from the Mandalorian himself. 

Din took the Staff and held it carefully. Then he turned it and tapped the flat end on the ground. The ring echoed through the room; he had accepted. Cobb breathed a sigh of relief, though this was never real in the first place.  _ Not to him. _

And just like that it was over, and Din and Cobb were being rushed to the war room to converse with the Lady and Lord of Mos Eisley. As they walked, the King and Queen informed them of what to say and when, taking a step forward into the halls. 

“This still feels so wrong,” Cobb whispered to Din,  _ his fellow Prince,  _ “Using something so valued by both our cultures, disrespecting yours, all for the sake of an alliance that would benefit us alone.” He shook his head.

Din slipped his hand into Cobb’s, the cool, leather gloves separating their skin. 

“I’m happy to do this,” he said quietly, “If it means helping you and your people. I care about them too.” Din leaned in closer, "Besides, you heard the Queen. As soon as you get tired of me, you say the word and I'm gone." 

"Don't say that,” Cobb replied, stopping them. The King and Queen kept walking on, none-the-wiser of their conversation. “I'll never get tired of you."

He felt himself losing his breath at the look in Din’s eyes: powerful determination and overwhelming fear swirled together in the rich, warm colour. The Mandalorian was so expressive, just by the light of his eyes, the set of his brow, the shift of his lips. Cobb got lost in it, in him, and was startled when Din finally spoke.

“When all of this is over,” he whispered fiercely, “And I am of no more use to the King and Queen, I will be sent back. You will find someone you love who could provide you a family, and I will go off with the kid, with  _ my _ family, and continue as I was before all of this.” Din exhaled shakily, breaking their eye contact as he glanced at his feet. “So do not give me any hope otherwise.”

With that, the Mandalorian turned and followed behind the King and Queen once again, his step firm and every-bit the Royal Cobb no longer felt he could be.  _ Consider this practice, _ he thought,  _ for when you have to watch him leave for real. _

-

“This seems a bit sudden,” Lady Shand said from the projector. “How on Earth did Knight Djarin get to be with you in the first place?”

The King cleared his throat, “He was initially hired as a personal bodyguard and advisor to my son, Prince Cobb, to whom he is now wed.”

Lady Shand frowned. She glanced back at her husband, Lord Fett, who stepped forward. 

“Brother,” he spoke, his gravelly accent cutting through the room, “How long?”

Din stepped forward to answer and Cobb’s gaze went nervously from him to his parents; they had not thought to discuss such a thing.

“Not as long as is custom,” Din said, his chin up, “But long enough to know.”

Cobb’s eyes settled on Din then, and he raised an eyebrow.  _ Long enough to know? _

Din and his brother held each other’s gaze for a while. 

“Mos Pelgo is small but efficient; every person here has a vital role and they all look after each other,” the Mandalorian added. “They have transportation fit enough for long-distance trade, a stable economy, and comparative advantage to even Mos Eisley in their bountiful fields of corn and grain. They would be a good ally, but they do need your help as well.”

“The Mandalorian is correct,” the King said, stepping in. Cobb groaned to himself. “We have much that could benefit you and yours in return, but we lack certain materials and protection. The Red Key Raiders still plague our kingdom. We know how efficient Mos Eisley is with security-”

“I want,” Lord Fett interrupted harshly, “To hear him say it.”

All eyes were on Din now, and without the helmet Cobb could clearly see how cornered he felt. When nothing was said after a moment, Cobb moved to step in and help.

“I love him,” Din said instead, his voice raw as if he’d just swallowed sand. “I do.”

Din seemed incapable of looking anywhere else than into his brother’s eyes, no matter how red his face became. And despite his obvious discomfort, he was still, his expression steady. Cobb held his breath.

“Very well,” Lord Fett said finally. He looked to Lady Shand, who nodded. “We will discuss terms in more depth later,” he added, “Mos Eisley accepts an alliance with Mos Pelgo.”

  
  
  


~

  
  
  


Din expected Cobb to meet him at his barracks where he’d gone back to staying in. He’d left the conference room quickly, ignoring Cobb’s obvious attempts to get his attention. Despite that, Cobb never ordered him to stay behind, to speak with him, for which his adoration for the Prince only grew. He hated this, hated loving someone he couldn’t ever have.

Din did not expect to see the Queen herself knocking on the barracks’ door. 

He immediately bowed, his fist on his chest, his eyes at her feet.

“Rise, Knight of Mandalore,” she said kindly.

Din glanced back up, his helmet hiding his utter confusion.

“I should wish to speak with you,” she began, moving to sit in a chair nearby, “About my son.” 

Din nodded once, awaiting her next words anxiously.

“Please, sit,” she added, gesturing to his cot. “I will not be long.”

Din sat carefully, and the Queen sighed.

“In all my son’s life, I’ve known there was to be something very special about him, something that we would not be ready for.” The Queen’s hands swept down her skirt, as if  _ she _ were nervous to be discussing her son. “He’s never loved anyone, Knight Djarin, never. We’ve brought suitors from all over, even other planets, but none have stayed. We’ve sent  _ him _ away to court others, and he always returned alone. Once I knew why, that he just…  _ Couldn’t  _ love another woman, of course it was of no matter to myself, but his father-” she paused, frowning at herself. 

Din braced for her to realise who she was speaking to, to yell at him for letting her say too much. But she just shook her head.

“His father wants Cobb to have an heir. He wants his son to have children.” The Queen sighed sadly, “He  _ loves _ Cobb. He just forgets that someday,  _ he _ will no longer be King. And then it will be up to our son to make decisions.”

The Queen was lost in thought for a second. Din’s gaze drifted to his lap.

“You really do love him, don’t you.”

Din’s head snapped up again, his eyes finding the Queen’s.

“You love my son.”

It wasn’t a question. Din saw in her face the same realisation he’d had not long ago.

“Yes,” he replied.

The Queen smiled softly at him.

“You should tell him,” she said, standing suddenly, “For real, this time. He needs you. And I know he wants more than anything for you to stay.”

“Your Majesty,” Din called as the Queen turned to leave.

She looked back at him expectantly.

“Thank you.”

She grinned once more, and left the room.

-

“Cobb.”

His own voice, in all its steadiness, felt forein to him. His hands shook and his heart raced as the Prince turned to him. Cobb’s face was expressionless, but his eyes were weighed with sadness. Din approached him slowly.

“I need to tell you something,” he said, stopping but a foot from the Prince.

“It’s alright, Din,” Cobb’s eyes had softened, but the sadness remained. “You don’t need to say anything. If you wish to leave, I only ask that you stay to see this through; we will not keep you here against your will.”

Cobb’s lack of care for himself for the sake of Din was really starting to piss the Mandalorian off. He grabbed Cobb’s arms, pulling him closer.

“I don’t  _ want _ to leave, Cobb.” Din pulled a hand away to yank off his helmet, leaning down to set it carelessly on the ground. He needed Cobb to see him. “I want to stay, with  _ you _ , for as long as I can.”

Cobb’s eyes had widened, and now darted across Din’s face in search of something.

“I love you,” Din said breathlessly. “I love you.”

For just a moment, there were no sounds, no movement, no passage of time. Then, Din felt them falling closer together, felt the Prince’s breath on his face.

Cobb kissed him softly. So softly, in fact, that if Din’s eyes were closed, it could've been a feather on his lips, or a piece of cloth fluttering against his mouth in the wind. The Prince pulled away, and it was then that Din actually closed his eyes, squeezed tight, unwilling to believe that what he'd felt was real, that it meant anything at all. If such a feather were to brush his lips, he'd think upon it no more than in annoyance at how it had disrupted him momentarily. Then he'd continue on, and the feather would lay forgotten on the ground.

For this reason, Din knew that when he opened his eyes they'd stare on naught but the hallway before him. The curtains, flat against their windows; the candlelights flickering on their aging and deteriorating pedestals; the portrait of the Vanth coat of arms, all blood reds and sky blues and sharp edges; the cobblestone walls cooling the small passage, until its chill would sink into Din's skin. There, the chill would find residence, and remain, only to prompt the aching and enveloping realisation that what he thought he'd had, what he  _ wished  _ he could have, meant nothing, amounted to nothing; and yet, he should lose it all when the Prince revealed he did not love him back, if the continued absence of any word or touch otherwise was any indication.

Then he felt it again, that same feather touch on his lips; only this time, it went deeper. A hand slid up Din’s cheek, resting against his jaw; another went to the back of his neck, pulling him forward. Din felt his arms wrap around Cobb’s waist of their own accord, for as he sighed into Cobb’s mouth he could think of nothing other than their proximity. The Prince inhaled sharply, holding himself impossibly closer, their body heat mixing together. Cobb’s lips were a sacred thing, his tongue drawing noises out of Din he’d otherwise be ashamed of had he any sense of mind in that moment. Cobb’s touch seared Din’s skin as his hands moved down to envelop his shoulders. Din realised he still wore his gloves, as he had all this time; that would have to change.

They broke away, panting soundly together. Din rested his forehead against Cobb’s, willing his heart to steady as his fingers tightened at Cobb’s sides. 

“I love you too,” Cobb gasped, pulling away just enough that he could meet Din’s eyes. “I love you.”

Din smiled brightly. Cobb grinned back, gazing at Din with adoration so strong it threatened to choke him. Then the Prince’s eyes lit up and he grabbed one of Din’s hands, pulling them along the corridor towards his chambers. 

“Wait, are we-”

“We’re  _ married _ , Din,” Cobb said, turning to face him. “We are allowed to do whatever the hell we want. If you want it as well.”

Din stared at Cobb, a brow raised.

“There’s not a realm in which I wouldn’t,” he said, and pulled Cobb along himself.

-

The next hour found Din on Cobb’s bed, pinning down the Prince beneath him as he came apart under Din’s skilled hands - hands that had  _ finally _ been freed from the gloves and were softer than Cobb imagined. Their mouths pressed together so tightly they seemed to breathe for each other. As Din slid in and out of the Prince, building from a slow, loving pace to a rough one that drove them both mad, Cobb’s hands found the Mandalorian’s curly hair and pulled tightly. Din moaned against his lips, which only encouraged Cobb further. 

They both came together, tears filling their eyes as they were equally overwhelmed with love for the other. When they’d finished, Din pulled out gently, laying next to Cobb and pulling him close. Cobb turned to his side and wrapped his arms around Din’s waist, nuzzling into Din’s neck. 

“I love you,” Din whispered against Cobb’s hair. He pulled the Prince tighter to himself and kissed his forehead tenderly. “I love you,” he repeated.

Cobb glanced up at him, his eyes watering once more.

“I love you,” he whispered back, leaning forward to press light kisses all over Din’s face. “ _ I love you _ .”

Kissing Din quickly became his favourite thing to do. And now that he had him for good, he couldn’t think of anything better to do that kiss Din senselessly, putting all of his love behind it and receiving it in equal measure from Din. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> sorry you had to suffer through that haha i love you


End file.
